Life in Panem
by TheDarkLord'sMistress
Summary: Oneshots and drabbles about various people in Panem. Different characters, genres and ratings. Chapter Seven: Finnick tries to flirt. Annie is oblivious.
1. Gale: Roadtrip

_Character(s): Gale Hawthorne_

_Pairing: Gadge_

_Rating: K_

_Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Romance_

_Notes: For Gadge Month on tumblr (Prompt: roadtrip and/or roommate)_

_)o(_

Gale pulled his jacket on and jumped down the stairs two at a time, in a hurry to reach his friend's car and thus make him stop honking before he woke up the whole neighbourhood.

Tron only grinned as Gale pulled open the car door and plopped down in the passenger seat, scowling at the man from Three he had befriended for some reason he could not quite remember as he was forced into driving across the country at this ungodly hour."I was barely two minutes late."

"Late's late,"Tron shot back and with that, they were on the road.

The main reason Gale had agreed to going along with his friend was to have a good reason why he wasn't using his time off to visit his family. Even if they hadn't recently moved back to Twelve, which was the last place he wanted to set foot in again, Gale knew he couldn't handle seeing them.

Not when his mother's eyes were filled with pity and worry and Rory could hardly bear looking at him since he'd found out about his involvement in designing those bombs. Not that Gale could blame him. Most days, he could barely face his own reflection.

He shook off that thought, instead telling Tron to switch to a different station, preferably the one that played the pre-cataclysm songs that had been somehow dug up again; he was rather fond of some of them.

They drove on and on, Tron singing loudly and off-key, Gale humming along and tapping his fingers in time with the music, occasionally stopping to switch drivers or just to stretch their legs.

"I really appreciate you coming,"Tron said at one of their stops, yawning and swinging his arms about."I couldn't have gone by myself."

Tron hadn't been able to get time off of work any earlier and he needed to be at his girlfriend's college the next day – well, in a few hours, actually – to propose on their anniversary as he wanted to. And it was a long drive, seeing as Tron refused to set a foot on a train since he'd been trapped in a tunnel cave-in during the rebellion. Another thought that Gale pushed away as he smiled."No problem. About time I met Tasha anyway, she's all you'll talk about."

"You'll know why once you've met her,"his friend replied with a dreamy sigh."Still. I know you don't like cars that much, so thanks. I'll set you up with Tasha's roommate. She's your type, I swear."

Gale scoffed."How would you know my type?"

"Well, I can see who you check out wherever we go,"Tron shot back."Medium height, slim, long blonde hair and you can't stop staring."

"Let's get back on the road,"Gale snapped, not in the mood to talk about this. Yes, he stared at every petite blonde that crossed his way. But he wasn't ogling, he was searching. No matter what Thom had told him, he refused to believe that Madge was dead. Those bodies in the mayor's house, they could have been anyone. She hadn't died because he didn't manage to get her out, she couldn't have. Not Madge, too.

Yet, after three years, he had to admit that it didn't look good. He had gone over any and every record he could find, to no avail. He remembered the lists of those displaced and brought to Thirteen in the war. He remembered finding a Margaret Donner on that list and having the ridiculous hope that she might have gone by her mother's maiden name. But the girl was from Five, and two years too old to boot. Again, he forced himself to stop thinking.

* * *

"Okay, some of Tasha's friends are instructed to keep her away until seven,"Tron said as he let himself and Gale into his girlfriend's apartment."Maggie, that's her roommate, she's out picking up the cake and champagne. You're in charge of electronics and I'm on decorations. Clear?"

"Clear,"Gale echoed, making a huge show of rolling his eyes.

* * *

He was in the kitchen for a quick break and a glass of water when the door opened and a female voice called out."Tron, there's more champagne and the cake still in the car, and I'm not climbing all those stairs again!"

Gale froze. That voice – he knew that voice. But it couldn't be, it just couldn't be. He turned around just in time to see champagne bottles fall from her grasp as she drew in a sharp breath."Gale?"

"Madge,"he croaked out, hardly believing his eyes."You're alive. Oh my god, you're alive."

She nodded, seemingly unable to say anything, just staring up at him. He took a step closer, slowly, half convinced she'd disappear if he touched her. This couldn't be real."How? I looked for you. They pronounced you dead. I_ looked_ for you."

"I got out,"she whispered."When the bombs came. I got out. I barely made it to Thirteen and was in hospital for most of the war. I didn't trust them, they seemed off somehow. I didn't want them to know I was the mayor's kid because I thought they'd say he was pro-Capitol. I used my mum's maiden name, changed my age and district."

"Margaret Donner from District Five,"he breathed and she nodded."So that was you."

Without another moment of hesitation, he pulled her into his arms. He was laughing and crying at the same time, giddy with relief and happiness, Madge clutching onto him as if her life depended on it, her lips finding his in an almost desperate kiss.

They broke apart when a soft laugh reached their ears. There stood Tron, cake in hand and a grin on his face."Told you she was your type."


	2. Haymitch: Weeping Angels

___Character(s): Haymitch Abernathy, Effie Trinket_

___Rating: K_

___Genre: Adventure_

___Notes: Crossover with Doctor Who; for the Hayffie January Challenge_

___)o(_

Haymitch cautiously pushed open the door to the old, abandoned building and stepped inside. It wasn't much and looked to be close to come crashing down, but it was the best lead he had gotten in nearly twenty years.

Ever since Maysilee had just disappeared of the face of the earth, he had been searching for an explanation, no matter what anyone else said or believed. May's twin sister, Mackenzie, had told him again and again how she dreamed of Maysilee, alive and well in some castle, clad in extravagant dresses. She'd even dug up an old history book with a portrait from a few centuries ago that did undeniable look exactly like Maysilee and was underwritten with Mademoiselle Donner.

Mackenzie was convinced that her sister was trapped in the past. Haymitch thought it was some mad coincident.

But now one of May's niece Madge's friends had gone missing and her little sister had recieved a letter from allegedly eighty years ago; suddenly, Kenzie's theory didn't seem quite so insane anymore.

So now Haymitch was hoping to find some kind of clue in this dump of a building that that Katniss girl had warned her sister to stay away from no matter what.

Finding nothing on the ground floor, he climbed up steps that creaked dangerously with his every move, exploring room after room. Haymitch found himself drawn to a room much like any of the other and found the windows in it boarded up. Under much groaning and cursing, he tore away the planks and looked over the newly exposed garden.

It was overgrown and uncared for like the house itself, but grand. The statue of a weeping woman stood atop a fountain in the centre of the garden. No, not just a woman; she had wings. A weeping angle.

He rolled his eyes at the kitsch of it and turned to leave the room when he sensed a movement behind him. Haymitch spun around quickly only to find that there was nothing there.

Leaning out of the window with a scowl, he found no one outside either. He was about to just shrug it of as his imagination when he realised the angel statue had disappeared."What the hell?"

As if things hadn't just got confusing enough, the door to the would-be abandoned house was thrown open. Haymitch rushed towards the staircase but was stopped by a voice drifting up towards him."Keep your eyes on the angel! No matter what you do, don't look away!"

Haymitch spun around once more, finding a monstrum a mere foot from him. It was the statue, undoubtebly, but nothing had ever looked less like an angel; fangs bared and claws outstretched, it was something that could have crawled out of a nightmare.

"What is that?"Haymitch yelled back at the disembodied voice, keeping his eyes fixed on the statue. The hasty clicking of high heels moved towards him, as did the voice."Just don't blink! I'll explain later."

Not blinking was easier said than done. Haymitch's eyes felt as if he'd rubbed chilli into them by the time the voice's owner pushed past him, placing a mirror taller than herself infront of the statue.

"You can blink now, it's trapped,"the woman told Haymitch, adjusting the huge butterfly pin she wore in hair equally massive curls."But we should still get out of here post-haste. This area is simply infested with weeping angels."

Haymitch followed her as she made her way down the stairs faster than seemed doable on the heels she was wearing and towards a blue box that seemed to be her destination. He grabbed her arm just as they reached what turned out to be a Police Box."Wait! You said you'd explain. Who are you? What was that thing? What the hell is going on?"

"Oh! How rude of me,"the woman said, eyes wide in shock."Where are my manners? I'm the Doctor, hello. Lovely to meet you."

She shook his hand with both of hers as he just stared. That wasn't even an answer. That just threw up more questions. Doctor _who_? Before he could ask, she already continued."As for the Weeping Angels, they are just one of the many, many wondorous things this universe has to offer."

She snapped her fingers with a dazzling smile, the door to the Police Box swinging open."Care to see more?"


	3. Well, you know

___Character(s): Peeta, Katniss, Prim, Cinna, Effie, Haymitch_

___Pairing: implied Hayffie_

___Rating: K_

___Genre: Humour_

___Notes: silly little drabble for no reason_

___)o(_

"Calm down and have a drink, princess,"Haymitch interrupts the escort as she explains the schedule for the photoshoot for the fifth time. She stares at him, absolutely scandalised at being cut of so rudely."I don't think you understand the importance of this, Haymitch!"

"I don't think you understand how annoying your voice is, Effie,"he replies, imitating her tone and accent. Grabbing a bottle of liquor, he marches from the room, the escort following hot on his heels."Haymitch Abernathy! You insufferable excuse for a victor, don't you dare walk away from me!"

Their steps and raised voices move along the hallway and fade away. Primrose chuckles, looking from Cinna to Peeta to Katniss."So, Haymitch and Effie, huh?"

"Yep,"Peeta says, popping the 'p' and grinning. The stylist nods enthusiastically."Oh, definitely. Not that they'd admit it."

"What do you mean?"Katniss demands, hoisting up the wedding dress she's currently in and marching closer to the others."What about them? Haymitch and Effie what?"

She's met with three sets of incredulous stares."Well, you know,"Prim says simply. Her older sister shakes her head, scolwing."No, I don't. That's why I'm asking."

"I mean, _you know_,"the younger Everdeen replies, rolling her eyes at her sister."Like, you know-you know." She underlines her point by wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

"Oh my god! Ew!"exclaims Katniss in shock and disgust."What is wrong with you? They hate eachother!"

Primrose groans and buries her face in her hands, Peeta tries hard to surpress a chuckle, Cinna laughs openly and heartily, addressing the male rather than the female victor."You know, I'm starting to see how Katniss never realised about you."


	4. Losses

___Character(s): Gale Hawthorne, Katniss Everdeen_

___Rating: K_

___Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Family_

___)o(_

Katniss didn't expect anyone to still be at the memorial by the time she got there -she always comes when the day is almost over, so she doesn't have to face the crowds- but there he is. His back is turned to her and his shoulders are shaking in silent sobs, but there is no mistaking Gale Hawthorne.

She moves towards him quietly, not sure what she was going to do or say. Her hand is on his shoulder before she can decide.

Gale spins around at the touch, his eyes finding hers instantly. As he sees who disturbed him, his face takes on a paniced look. Katniss knows that expression. She's seen it on wounded animals. On the faces of kids in the arena. On soldiers fighting to hold in their organs.

She holds up her hands in a placating manner. They stand there, staring, frozen, for what feels like forever.

"Hi, Gale,"she finally manages. It's been five years since she saw him, since she even spoke that name. He continues to stare at her, at a loss for words.

Katniss can't stand the pain, the guilt in his eyes and drops her gaze to the floor instead, to the flowers and presents the people bring to those who died. Among the candles and stuffed toys and lilies and roses, right where Gale stood, a single blue primrose rests next to a small basket of strawberries.

Choking back a sob, Katniss reaches out for her onetime best friend. He jerks back as if her touch might hurt him.

"Don't." His voice is a whisper, raspy and barely audible. She isn't even sure she really heard it. The first thing he's said to her in years. He shakes his head."Don't. Don't do this. You hate me. It's okay, you should. Just don't pretend you don't."

"I'm not pretending,"she replies, her voice as painfully weak as his own."I'm _not_. I never hated you. I thought I did, but I don't."

It's taken her years to understand that herself, and even then she didn't find the strength to call him and tell him. He doesn't believe her, she sees it in his eyes."I don't hate you, Gale. And I don't blame you. You loved Prim, I know that. Not as much as I did, but you loved her. It was war. And you didn't mean for her to get hurt."

"I meant for someone to get hurt,"Gale says, his voice hollow but his eyes full of desperation, maybe even a sliver of hope that she might not be lying."Someone's sister."

Katniss takes a cautious step forward and this time, he doesn't shrink away."It was war,"she repeats."We all did bad things, we all hurt people, we all meant for someone to get hurt. But we did what we did for the right reasons."

"With terrible results,"he croaks. Tears are pooling in his eyes aswell as Katniss's."I was only trying to help. And it resulted in – in – _that_."

"I thought I was doing the right thing when I broke that forcefield,"she admits quietly. She doesn't like talking about _before_; it hurts too much."I was trying to help aswell. That's why the bombs came."

Another step towards him. Another few inches closer. Another movement he doesn't recoil from.

"I loved her,"Katniss says."Not as much as you did. But I loved Madge, too."

And suddenly she's in his arms and they're both crying and clinging to eachother as if to make up for all the hugs they missed in years of icy silence.

Katniss knows, right then, that she might never get her sister back, but she got back her brother.


	5. Odesta: Cupcake girl

Prompt on tumblr: _Odesta Prompt: Finnick is a poet and songwriter and he meets his muse Annie Cresta._

Characters: Finnick Odair and Annie Cresta (duh)

Pairing: Odesta (who would have guessed?)

Rating: K

)o(

Finnick set aside his guitar, burrying his face in his hands in exasperation. Nothing was working. No matter how hard he tried, the words wouldn't come to him and the music just felt _wrong_.

Just a few short years ago, he had been a nobody, writing poems just for the sake of poetry, creating songs because he loved doing so, performing at open mic nights in local bars to share his passion.

When he'd been discovered, he had hardly believed it. Him, a star?

It had been amazing, it had been overwhelming, it had been more than he'd ever dared to dream.

But it had been exhausting aswell, too much work and not enough sleep, too many regulations and not enough freedom, too much focus on the money and not enough on the art.

Finnick loved his fans dearly, the ones who came to his concerts, the ones who cried with joy when they could have their picture taken with him, the ones who told him how his songs had changed their lives. (Not so much the ones who showed up outside Mags's house when he tried to get away from it all or the ones who shouted insults when he just didn't have the time to sign every single item put before him.)

He loved writing songs and he loved performing. (He hated the pressure Capitol Records was putting on him to come out with a new album.)

After three years of song after song after song, inspiration elluded him. He needed a break, simple as that.

But once you'd signed with Snow, president of Capitol Records, you didn't really do breaks anymore. So instead, Finnick settled for a bit of fresh air and a cup of coffee.

With his huge sunglasses and his hat pulled low, he was quite confident that he wouldn't be recognised. In this tiny fishing village, where most people seemed to be over fourty or under ten, there wasn't much danger of that anyways, but he had gotten rather used to hiding his face when going out.

As he strolled along the streets without recieving so much as a second glance along the way, Finnick's mood lightend. He'd have to remember to thank Cashmere for the tip; the actress was much more practiced in avoiding the paparazzi than he was and this village was definitely exactly what he'd needed. Maybe he'd even manage to write a halfway decent song if he hung around a while longer...

He was about to enter the sweet little bakery/coffee shop when a young woman walked out, calling her goodbyes over her shoulder and crashing right into him.

Finnick caught her in time to keep her from falling, but the same could not be said for the box she was carrying. After it had been smashed between their bodies, the contents would have probably not been savable anyways, but the squelch it hit the floor with told him that now, the box held nothing but mush.

He opened his mouth to ask if she was alright, but the second he looked into her eyes he found himself dumbfounded. She was, without a doubt, the most beautiful person he had every laid eyes on. Her bright green eyes were wide in surprise, her lips slightly parted, her cheeks flushed.

"Oh my god! You are- you're -"she stammered out, and he knew what was next. _Finnick Odair, I can't believe it! _"You're covered in frosting! I'm so sorry!"

Okay, not what he had been expecting.

Looking down, Finnick saw that his shirt was indeed newly decorated with the remnants of the beauty's cupcakes.

"So I am,"he said, his face splitting into a huge grin."So I guess I owe you new cupcakes?"

That made her giggle and, oh, it was the sweetest sound."More like _I _owe _you_ a new shirt."

"Eh, same difference,"he shrugged."Let me buy you a cup of coffee?"

She hesitated, but only for a second."I'm buying, on account of me not looking where I'm walking."

"If you insist,"he replied. It really didn't matter, as long as he got the chance to talk to her."I'm Finnick, by the way."

"Annie."

* * *

"Oh, Finnick, this is beautiful,"Effie exclaimed, clasping her hands together and beaming. Even Haymitch couldn't find something to nitpick but instead raised his class to Finnick, albeit slightly mockingly."Odair, you're back to the roots. Snow'll be pleased."

"I'm sure he will,"Finnick agreed. Not that he really cared. He was only delighted to have found his passion for his work once more. Even though Capitol Records had dragged him back to the city mere hours after meeting Annie, he felt like he had been reborn. He had connect with her so instantly and absolutely, it felt like something in his brain had just clicked into the right place; finally.

Words were magical again, his music full of feelings and he'd had more fun writing his songs than he'd had in a long time.

* * *

The new album and subsequent tour kept him busy for a few months, but he ended up more famous than even Snow could have possibly demanded.

Yet Finnick could not wait to return to the fishing village and find Annie again. But when he did return, she was gone.

No one would tell him if they even knew where she lived – which shouldn't have surprised him, really. What kind of irresponsible person would just give out someone's adress?

He just wished he'd been smart enough to get her number and not just rely on the thought that in a village that small, she couldn't be hard to find.

* * *

"So, Finnick, I must ask,"Caesar Flickerman said, leaning forward as if he wanted to discuss some private matter. Not that they were on the biggest talk show the country had seen in ages or anything."After such dolce songs like _Sweetest surprise _and _Cupcake girl, _your songs have become considerably more thoughtful, even longing."

He cleared his throat and recited a part of Finnick's newest hit single."And should I never find you, every night, for all eternity, my last thought will be of your lips."

Caesar sighed along with the audience, placing a hand over his heart."Beautiful. Care to share why the mood change?"

And there it was, the reason why – aside from Snow's insistence – he had come on this show. _Not everyone listens to sappy music_, Johanna had said, _but everyone watches Caesar. Literally everyone. _God, he hoped she was right.

"Well, Caesar, I found my muse,"Finnick confessed,"And then I lost her again. And all I want is to find her. And when I do, I'll make sure to never let her go again."

He turned to look straight into the camera and prayed she was watching."Annie, if you're watching, meet me where we first met tomorrow."

* * *

His heart was hammering against his ribs as if it were trying to escape his chest, his hands were clammy and his mouth unreasonably dry. He paused, hand already resting on the door to the bakery, and drew in a deep breath before pushing it open.

There, at the very same table they had shared on that fateful day, sat Annie, a bright smile on her face."Hi, Finnick."

)o(

I had fun with this, thank you! Throw prompts at me, darlings, I'm ready!


	6. Gadge: Stranded

Prompt on tumblr: _I've got this completely AU idea in my head and can't get it out! How about some stranded on an island Gadge? Or even Everlark, but I'm pretty sure it works with Gadge better :)_

Pairing: I went with Gadge :)

Rating: K+

)o(

_Day 1_

Drifting through the ocean aimlessly and without water was bad enough. Add Gale Hawthorne to the mix, and the idea of drowning suddenly seemed oddly delightful.

Especially when he insisted to somehow turn this so it was all her fault. Even though he had been the one who'd annoyed her enough to go outside in that miserable storm in the first place. Even though it was him showing up and continuing his unnecessary nagging that had kept her from going straight back inside when she realised that the captain and crew where not overexaggerating the weather. Even though it was he who had jumped out of the way of the deckchair that had been forgotten on deck and went flying. It had been Gale bloody Hawthorn who had lost his balance and staggered over board. All she had done was trying to catch him – a reflex, really – and suddenly, she had been stuck in the ocean, using the stupid bloody deck chair as a makeshift float and listen to Gale go on and on and _on_.

"Oh my god, shut up!"

He looked at her as if he wasn't sure she had actually spoken. She was quite surprised herself, to be perfectly honest. Well, in for a penny, in for a pound...

"We're both stuck here, Hawthorne, and you were the one who went tumbling over,"she snapped, fixing him with her best glare."Sorry for trying to help you, you ungrateful baboon."

"You could have gotten actual help,"he growled back,"And then we wouldn't be stuck here."

The insulting retort she had ready died on her tongue, her eyes widening."Is that an island over there?"

* * *

_Day 4_

It had, in fact, been an island and they'd been stuck on it for three days now.

There was a fresh water stream and plenty of trees heavy with fruit, so survival wasn't really much of an issue. How they were ever going to get away from there, on the other hand, was a pretty big issue.

"You can't build a raft,"Madge remarked, skinning and pitting fruit as she spoke."I mean, maybe you can, but it doesn't make sense. You don't even know which way we'd have to go. We have no containers to take fresh water along. We'd just die."

He scowled at her, but did infact stop what he was doing."Well, aren't you a ray of sunshine."

"I'm fed up with sunshine,"replied Madge, lightly touching her sunburnt cheeks. She could have sworn he smiled, just for a second. He plopped down next to her and helped prepare their dinner."What do you propose we do, Undersee?"

She shrugged."We wait."

"That,"Gale snorted,"is the exact opposite of doing something."

"That,"she said, mimicking his tone of voice,"is sensible. Katniss and Peeta will have noticed we've disappeared, they'll have people out searching for us. Give it another day or two, Hawthorne, and calm down."

* * *

_Day 9_

"You have to move your hands faster."

Madge scowled, not bothering to look up at Gale, continuing what she was doing. She felt him step closer rather than she could hear it. God, he moved like a shadow."I'm telling you, princess, it's not gonna work like that."

"I'm not telling you how to do things, I'd appreciate it if you'd return the favour,"she snapped and he chuckled. He _chuckled_. Stupid Gale Hawthorne and his deep sexy chuckle. Wait, what?

Suddenly, his arms were around her, his hand atop hers guiding her movements."Just a bit faster, see, and you'll get the fire started. Just like that."

Annoyingly enough, he was right. Even more annoyingly, her cheeks were burning, and it was not from the receding sunburn.

* * *

_Day 14_

Madge bit her lip in an attempt to stop herself from laughing."Tell me you're not back to trying to build a raft."

"Fine, I won't tell you,"he snapped, continuing dragging wood about.

He was frustrated with waiting around, she got that; she was, too. But the raft was still an entirely idiotic idea. Not that she minded him parading around shirtless while he worked...

She quickly looked away as he looked over to her. Him catching her ogling would just not do.

"Why haven't they found us yet?"asked Gale."Isn't your dad supposed to be rich or something?"

"Yes, Hawthorne, you're on to us,"Madge drawled, rolling her eyes."Money gives us magical powers to find tiny islands in the middle of nowhere."

Back home, he would have said something rude, she was sure. But after a fortnight on the island, all he did was grin."Good one, Undersee."

* * *

_Day 17_

Madge woke up in the small wooden shelter Gale had built for the both of them, the wind howling outside. Great, another storm. Because _that _was going to help along the search for them...

She was about to get up to check on their bonfire – no one was going to spot this tiny island without it – when she suddenly became aware of the fact that Gale had his arms wrapped around her.

Had they been sleeping like that? Did he know they were sleeping like that?

"Gale?" It was hardly even a whisper. No reaction. So he was asleep. Which meant she didn't have to think about this. Good. Not that that stopped her from thinking about it.

She lay there, hardly daring to breathe, his warmth against her body much too confusing. Just when she decided to get up afterall, he suddenly pulled her a little closer."Go back to sleep, Madge."

* * *

_Day 19_

They were sitting in the sand, slow waves lapping at their feet, eating fruit.

"This is actually pretty nice,"Madge remarked suddenly. Gale's eyebrows shot up in amusement and she blushed."Well, if you can get past the whole stuck here forever thing."

His smile was sweet as he leaned closer, brushing a loose strand of her hair behind her ear."You know what? It is nice."

Before she could even think _is this really happening?_, his lips were on hers and she practically melted into the kiss.

She couldn't have said how long it had lasted, but they jumped apart at the sound of a horn sounding. A ship was approaching, probably having seen their bonfire.

Gale rolled his eyes as he got up and offered Madge a hand."Sure, _now _they find us."

)o(

Woohoo Gadge! Awesome prompt, thanks a ton! :) :)


	7. Odesta: Flirting

Prompt on tumblr:_Odesta prompt: Finnick flirts with Annie but it doesn't work_

Rating: K

)o(

Finnick drop down in the seat across from Annie, smile on his face."Hey, Annie. What are you doing?"

She shrugged in reply, holding up the half-finished fishing net, unable to feel anything but embaressed. She didn't need to make nets, and to anyone but her it was probably the most boring past-time ever. Yet Finnick's smile broadend and he reached out for her work."That's really good. You have clever fingers. Anything else you can do with them?"

Again, Annie shrugged. She wasn't very artsy at all, if that was what he was asking. Then again, he was probably just being polite."Just nets, really."

* * *

Annie's nose wrinkled in disdain at the dress her stylist had put her in. Enobaria or Cashmere might be able to pull something like this off, but accentuating her curves (or rather, lack there of) was not really _Annie Cresta._

"I look ridiculous,"she complained to no one in particular. It was Finnick Odair who chose to reply, coming up behind her and smiling at her reflection in the mirror."You look stunning. Always do."

She giggled slightly."Thanks, Finn. You're a dear to say so."

She could have sworn she heard him groan as she walked away. Strange...

* * *

Annie didn't think much of getting drunk but drunk Finnick was admittedly extremely funny. He stumbled out of the elevator, shaking off Haymitch with a claim that he was _just fine_, walked two more steps and fell flat on his face.

He sat up almost instantly and once she realised he wasn't hurt, Annie allowed herself a giggle. That made Finnick aware of her presence, and he beamed before putting on a pout that was almost convincing."Annie,"he whined,"I fell. Come kiss it better."

She decided to humour him and crouched down next to him."Where does it hurt, then?"

"Anywhere you want it to,"he replied with a wink. Yes, drunk Finnick was really funny, even if he rarely made sense.

* * *

"Annie, I need you to hold my hand, right now,"Finnick said in ways of greeting, sitting down next to her. She complied, his tone was urgent. They sat like that for a minute or maybe even two before she spoke."Why, exactly?"

"To throw off all these women after me,"he said with a dramatic sigh, laughing along as she laughed. Annie looked over his shoulder."Well, there's no one there anymore, so I think you're good."

He didn't even bother to look himself."Just to make sure, how about a kiss?"

Letting go of his hand, she laughed once again.

* * *

"Oh my god, Cresta!" Johanna marched into the room without knocking. Not that Annie would expect the other woman to do something that could be qualified as good manners."Either go out with Odair or tell him to stop flirting, his moping makes me insane!"

Annie scolwed, confused."What do you mean?"

"Insane as in crazy, you know, from being so annoyed,"Johanna clarified, putting on a high-pitched whine that apparently was supposed to be Finnick but sounding everything but."Why doesn't she like me, Jo? What did I do wrong?"

"No, I mean, what flirting?"

That made Johanna fall silent, an incredulous look on her face."Finn's constantly hitting on you, in case you haven't noticed."

Annie's mouth fell open."Oh! That's what that is? That's him flirting? I did _not _get that!"

Instead of a reply, Johanna hit herself in the forehead, shaking her head and muttering something that sounded suspiciously like,"And that's why they call you bonkers, Cresta."

)o(

This was fuuun :) thanks for the prompt


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